


Cold Night for Cloudsreach

by Sylla



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angsty Cullen is my favourite Cullen, Blind idiots in love, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3260879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylla/pseuds/Sylla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skyhold has everything the Inquisition needs. Now, if Cullen could only find his way around...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Night for Cloudsreach

The only downside to Skyhold Fortress, as far as Cullen was concerned, was that it was so blasted  _big_. To be sure, the size would be useful in the coming weeks as the Inquisition’s forces grew – the fortress truly had space for everything imaginable, from a cloistered garden to a proper, dedicated kitchen, and it would be weeks before the new recruits coming in even started to fill all the space – but that also meant that it was a rabbit’s warren of stairways, halls, courtyards and corridors.

He cursed softly as he opened a door to reveal yet another room he’d never seen before. This one seemed to be a small library. Something about the room gave it a vaguely sinister air – although the cobwebs draped over everything certainly didn’t help in that respect. Someone had lit the candelabras, though. Probably Solas, he reflected – the mage had a remarkable capacity for remaining calm in the face of things that would make normal men’s skin crawl. Sighing, he closed the door.

“Cullen? Are you all right?”

He spun to find Evelyn Trevelyan standing behind him. “Inquisitor! N-no, everything’s fine, thank you. I was just on my way to the war room.” Had he been so lost in thought he hadn’t heard her approach? Cassandra wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if she found out. Bowing slightly, he turned towards the door he thought most likely led in the direction of the main hall.

“Cullen? …That’s the door to the kitchens.”

Oh, Maker. He turned around again to find her smiling, shoulders shaking slightly with suppressed laughter.

“Ah… yes,” he said, the tips of his ears heating up.

“I was actually on my way there as well.” She shifted, putting one hand on her hip. “Would you… care to accompany me?”

He smiled despite himself. “Of course. Shall we?”

It was… not good, he knew. When he’d first laid eyes on her – well, no, that wasn’t technically correct. The first time he’d laid eyes on her she’d been barely more than a corpse, dragged in unconscious and bleeding by the Inquisition’s soldiers, the sole survivor of the explosion that had razed the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The first time he’d  _properly_  looked at her, after she’d stopped the breach from tearing them all apart and woken a hero, he’d been struck by how calm she seemed. Having fallen out of the Fade and then gone from being a suspect in the Divine’s death to being declared Herald of Andraste in a matter of hours – her serenity had to hide nerves of steel. She’d turned her head away from the crowd, wind tugging at her hair, and his eyes met hers. Calm, quick, bright.

She had very beautiful eyes.

“I can’t seem to get a hold of the layout here,” he groused as she led him up a flight of stairs, in part to wrench his mind away from its current train of thought. “At least Haven was relatively straightforward. Training grounds, armory and stables outside the walls, everything else inside, Chantry at the top.”

She laughed. “It’s barely been a week. I doubt anyone but Leliana's got this place mapped out yet.” She opened the door at the top of the stairs to reveal Josephine’s study. (How she’d managed to get it so well-appointed in little over a week mystified him. The ambassador truly had connections.)

He grunted. “Case in point. I could have sworn there were no stairs there last I came through.”

“Perhaps we should check for demonic interference,” she teased, and he laughed.

“Don’t tempt me.”

They entered the war room to find Cassandra, Leliana and Josephine already there.

“There you are,” the spymaster said. “We were beginning to think something had happened.” Cullen wondered if smiling like she knew all your secrets was something that came naturally to Leliana, or whether she practiced in front of a mirror. He cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Well then – to work?” His arm brushed against the Inquisitor’s as he moved past her to the other side of the table. She twitched – or was he imagining things? It was hard to tell through the armor.

“The latest reports are in,” Leliana started. “There’s no sign of the Red Templars. Either Corypheus’ army was wiped out when you triggered the second avalanche and he was unable to pursue, or…”

“Or he’s just waiting to build up his strength.” Cullen finished. “Which makes it of utmost importance that we start fortifying Skyhold immediately. Rebuilding the collapsed bridge in the courtyard to clear access to the stables and repairing the walls should be our priority.”

“We should give some thought to the Grand Hall, Commander,” Josephine demurred. “The Inquisition needs allies now more than ever, and the only way to do that is to make ourselves an imposing presence. They will provide protection mere walls cannot.”

She paused before adding, “… and foreign dignitaries will not be impressed with a hall filled with dust and debris.”

“ _Mere walls_  will be the only thing stopping an army long enough for allies to arrive.” Cullen crossed his arms.

“Inquisitor?” Cassandra cut through the discussion.

Trevelyan breathed deep and closed her eyes for a moment. Cullen watched as her fingers traced the grain of the table. Her hand was so small it was hard to believe it could grip a sword – if he hadn’t seen it for himself. And her features were so fine, yet strong; even with her eyes closed she looked –

Her eyes opened and he jerked his gaze down, inspecting one of the markers. Had she seen his stare?

_Stop being an idiot. You’ll do no-one any favors by acting like a love-struck boy._

“The repairs to the walls will take some time anyway, yes, Cullen?”

He looked back up at her. “Ah – yes,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. _Gather hold of yourself._ “There’s significant damage to the eastern and northern walls; it’ll take a while to repair.”

“And Josephine – how soon can we expect foreign dignitaries to arrive?”

“It has been a week since we arrived; word will have surely spread by now.” The ambassador jotted a few notes on her board. “The first of them should start arriving in about… two weeks.”

“Then we do this.” Trevelyan leaned on the war table with both hands. “The walls will take a while, so we concentrate on rebuilding the courtyard bridge and clearing the living quarters as soon as possible. As the teams finish their tasks, move them to the Grand Hall. It doesn’t have to be finished by the time the dignitaries start to arrive, just presentable. Then we can move on to the walls. Oh – and reserve a few people for minor repairs. It should be quick work to make the cloister accessible, and… Bull has told me repairing the tavern would do wonders for morale,” she concluded with a smile.

Cullen found himself nodding approvingly; from the corner of his eye he saw Cassandra smile and lean back. She must be satisfied, then, he mused.

Truly, this Inquisitor of theirs was exactly what they needed. Someone who would not only provide a different opinion, but someone who could weigh their options in an impartial manner and make decisions quickly. She was a natural leader.

The rest of the meeting passed quickly – envoys  _here_ , scouts  _there_ , the odd intimidation or information-gathering.

“There is one more thing,” Cullen said as they were starting to finish up. “I’ve received a letter from an old friend of mine in Hasmal – Knight-Commander Brycen. There are loyalist mages up there, and he fears they may be in danger from the people of Hasmal. Guilt by association. He’s requesting that we take charge of them.”

“It would be an easy matter to arrange transport from Hasmal – and let the city think they owe us a favour for taking the mages off their hands,” Josephine supplied.

“What’s to say they won’t be attacked on the way out?” Leliana countered. “My people can find ways of traveling where they won’t be seen.”

“There’s no need for that,” Cullen argued. “If protection is needed, we have Templars of our own. They can work with the Templars of the Hasmal Circle and escort the mages to Skyhold.” Maker, he respected Leliana and her work, but she  _did_  have a tendency to want to over-complicate things sometimes.

“I’m inclined to agree with Cullen,” Trevelyan said. She looked over at him and their eyes met again. “This is one instance where we shouldn't sneak around in the dark. And besides, it will show confidence in our Templars. I know some of them were already nervous with just the mages from Redcliffe; I don’t want them to feel like they’re being… replaced. Cullen, send a small force of people you trust.”

“As you say.” He nodded.

“Then I believe that is everything,” Josephine concluded crisply.

He found himself falling in beside the Inquisitor as they left the room. As they entered the Grand Hall, he spoke. “I wanted to thank you, Inquisitor.”

“Hmm – for?” She glanced up at him.

“For your vote of confidence. It can’t be easy trying to keep both the mages and the Templars happy. Like a balancing act over a pit of snakes… some days I wonder how Josephine manages it.”

She laughed. “Sometimes I feel like I’m waiting for someone to tell me what a terrible job I’ve been doing. I was never brought up to lead – my parents wanted me to join the Chantry.”

“Truly?” You wouldn’t have known it by watching her. “Well you’ve done a fine job so far. What you did in Haven, putting yourself in danger to let everyone else escape – it was brave.”

They were at the doors of the Grand Hall now, and he opened them, blinking at the sudden sunshine. She smiled at him. Andraste preserve him, but she had a beautiful smile.

“Thank you, Cullen. Your support, it… means a lot to me.” She laid a hand on his upper arm.

“Of course.” He smiled back. As though he could have done anything else.

And for a moment, she seemed to lean towards him, and he took an small step forward.

“W-well, I should – I should get back to my duties.” What in Andraste’s name had made him say  _that_?

“Oh… of course.” Could she possibly have looked disappointed just then? His imagination must be running away with him. Her hand slid down his arm, and almost out of reflex, he caught it. Her eyes widened, and for a moment neither said anything. Her hands fingers were long and slim, and curled around his as they looked at each other.

“… Inquisitor.”

He sketched a small bow. Her hand slipped out of his as he turned and strode down the stairs, crossing the courtyard and returning to his study in a daze. He shut the sturdy wooden door and leaned against it.

 _Stop this at once. She is your Inquisitor, it would be_ beyond _inappropriate._

The back of his head met the wooden surface with a dull thud and he let out a frustrated sigh. His left hand found the spot where hers had been.

_And anyway, it doesn’t matter. What could someone like her want with someone as broken and scarred as you? Impossible._

His hand moved from his arm to fist in his surcoat.

But for a moment he’d wanted nothing more than to take her hands, her arms, her slender waist – to grab her and kiss her, make her gasp with surprise. He gritted his teeth.

 _Impossible_.

He would have to be more careful from now on.

**Author's Note:**

> Josephine and Leiliana stayed behind in the War Room to start a betting pool on how long it’ll take them to hook up.
> 
> Cloudsreach is the fourth month in Thedas. The title is based off a song called Nit Freda Per Ser Abril (Cold Night for April), which is about two people having feelings for each other but not being able to gather up the courage to say something. It was meant to be a humorous oneshot about Cullen getting lost but then it spun out of control I’m sorry


End file.
